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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468233">(it's new year's eve and) i don't like you anymore</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/1ND1GO/pseuds/1ND1GO'>1ND1GO</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angry TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Angst with a Happy Ending, Bonding Over Mushroom Stew, Dream SMP's most iconic therapy trip, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Family Saved Via Power Of Cow, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), I do Piglin Worldbuilding for fun, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), NO ROMANCE THIS IS PLATONIC ONLY, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Hybrid Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Hybrid Wilbur Soot, Platonic Cuddling, Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Wilbur Soot, Rebellious Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Runaway TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade Hears Voices (Video Blogging RPF), Tommyinnit Has Had Enough, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, biologically in this fic, he drags ghostbur along with him, mostly comfort</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:48:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,408</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28468233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/1ND1GO/pseuds/1ND1GO</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In this universe, Tommy's bunker doesn't get found by Dream. He spent a lacklustre Christmas with only his mooshroom for company. Technoblade is still attacked by the Butcher Army, Philza is still under house arrest and Ghostbur finally makes it back to Logsted. </p><p>Tommy is angry and wants his brother back.</p><p>But that's nothing new, is it?</p><p>Or,</p><p>Tommy is a little more untrustworthy towards Dream, a little more self aware, and says, "Hey, you know what? Fuck this in particular." And dips, therapy cow and ghost brother in tow.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit, TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF) &amp; Mushroom Henry, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1530</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MCYT Fic Rec</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. what's hangin' young hero? besides your head and spirit.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hhhh okay someone take my ao3 account away i have too many ongoing fics.</p><p>chapter title is from 'You're an Ace, Kid' by DEMONDICE. its a very tommy song, i think. fic title is from 'New Year's Eve' by Mal Blum. because i wrote this on new years eve and its set then.</p><p>i'd like to specify, even though it should be obvious, i am writing about the CHARACTERS that the mcyt's portray, not the actual people what the hell. theres a reason why i au my fics as much as possible to alienate the characters from the people, guys. </p><p>Content Warnings: Feelings of inadequacy, dream blowing up tommy's stuff is mentioned, very very brief mention of suicidal ideation.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite being on a beach, Logsted was never the warmest exile destination, Tommy realised numbly as he curled up next to a dim campfire, coals barely lighting the floor around him. Harsh winds battered the small settlement, the main reason why he had decided to migrate from the 'Tnret' to Wil- <em>Ghostbur's</em> campsite. And yeah, even though the walls didn't help much, they made him feel safer. Like no one could hurt him as long as he was inside them. Scoffing and looking over at Mushroom Henry he uttered his first words that night.</p><p> </p><p>"Guess thats why L'manberg had walls, huh? To make us feel safe?" </p><p> </p><p>It was naïve of him to think the mooshroom could understand him. But the red and white behemoth of a bovine was a comforting presence against his side, prodding his nose into his ribs and grounding him. Probably the only thing keeping him sane. Letting out a deep sigh, he deflated like a balloon against the cow's side and grasped at the gold nugget hanging from his rope necklace. Dream- that green bastard- had been visiting less and less as of late, probably because of the holidays. That allowed him to push his luck and keep something precious unblown up. The single time his adopted father had visited, he had gifted him the charm and the piglin side of him was immediately enthralled. </p><p> </p><p>To Tommy, it made no sense as to why he would be so attached to it; his piglin half's habit of hoarding never showed up in gold, only in his music discs. But he kept it on him at all times either way, along with the compass his brother had given him not long before he disappeared. It hurt to think about his discs or Ghostbur, so he didn't, instead pulling his thin blanket (another pity gift, like his mooshroom and the gold nugget) around himself to try and keep the chills out. His tusks, short and blunt to signify his <em>runt</em> status chattered along with his teeth. He didn't get the overtly piglin features like his brot- Technoblade, did. Nor did he look entirely human like Wilbur did. Longer ears, tusks, slightly pinker skin and instincts that were better than a humans, but not as good as a full piglin. Just another set of things to alienate him from his family. Almost a piglin, but <em>not quite, </em>almost human, <em>but not quite.</em> Almost enough, <em>but</em> <em>not quite.</em></p><p> </p><p>Gritting his teeth and burrowing further into the tough hide, he curled in on himself. Too much self-reflection, he needed to sleep. If he wanted to see the new year, his eyes needed to stay closed, his brain needed to believe that Dream wouldn't be there in the morning. Tommy slipped the necklace into his pocket just in case.</p><p> </p><p>Surprisingly, he did wake up. A small part of him, very small mind you, didn't want to see the sun breaking over the horizon line. Where L'manberg was. Tommy didn't know when 'home', became L'manberg, but it was probably between the boat ride to his beach that wasn't really his beach and the first time his worldly possessions were blown sky high. By Dream. If he didn't remember that the masked asshole was the one who was tormenting him, he would lose himself. And currently, all that he had was himself. As far as he was concerned, Mushroom Henry was his own owner, not Tommy.</p><p> </p><p>Speak of the devil and he shall arise, Tommy noted that the mushroom stew source was grazing by the mouth of the campsite, having left him sometime in the early hours in the morning. </p><p> </p><p>"Happy new year to you too, asshole," he muttered, but his heart wasn't in it. His heart wasn't in much these days. </p><p> </p><p>Dragging himself up off the floor, he forwent dusting his clothes off. The tattered rags already held so many stains, sleeping on the floor was barely going to hurt them. What it did hurt, however was his back. Wincing, he stretched his arms as high as he could in a half-hearted attempt to get the knot out of his back. He would have to swim around in the ocean for a bit to clean himself off, but that chore could be put off for another day because he could barely muster up the energy to climb the walls for a paranoia motivated check for Dream. He did it, of course, he wouldn't dare climb into his bunker without making double sure he wouldn't get caught doing it. </p><p> </p><p>Soon, he would have enough supplies to ditch this fucking shithole. Not today, maybe not tomorrow, but it was so tantalizingly close that it brought a grin to his lips that hadn't been seen since before his exile. Plucking a few mushrooms from Mushroom Henry's back, he mixed them into a bowl with some purified water from the rain catcher for a nutritious, if tasteless stew. Leaving the empty bowl on a nearby barrel, he stumbled his exhausted way to the bunker. He would clean that up later. Probably.</p><p> </p><p>Triple checking his chests, Tommy nodded to himself, the joyful grin still plastered on his face like his birthday had come early. He could leave today. He- he could leave today! All he needed to do was fix his ratty backpack up a little, equip the armour and leave a note then him and his cow could leave this 'holiday home' . Of course he would bring the giant mooshroom, because there was not a chance in the flaming Nether lava lakes that he would leave another cow in the clutches of a Dream Team member. There was still a Henry shaped hole in his heart. Clambering up the ladder with his diamond armour and more important items in his arms was a difficult task for sure, but he couldn't bring himself to mind it. For the first time in a year, his shoulders felt light.</p><p> </p><p>Of course that was when things went wrong. </p><p> </p><p>Light footsteps sounded from the floorboards just barely above him, Tommy's heart stuttered to a stop as he hung from the topmost ladder rung. </p><p> </p><p>A whisper like call, humour intoned in the familiar-yet-not voice, "Tommy? I don't remember putting a basement here."</p><p> </p><p>Precious items spilled onto the wood, left forgotten as dull blue eyes connected to a pair of white ones, "Wilbur?" It came out choked, no little amount of horror in the single spoken word. Like he had seen a ghost, which he had, but that wasn't exactly the point.</p><p> </p><p>"Wil you- fuckin'," Tommy scrambled out of the hole, tripping into his brother's opened arms. "I thought you'd moved on, asshole! I thought you went to wherever-" his fingers tangled themselves into the knitted yellow sweater of their own accord, "Wherever ghosts go after they move on or somethin'." The last part came out a hoarse whisper, but the ghost picked up on it easily. He also didn't correct him like he did with everyone else. It helped.</p><p> </p><p>He wanted to be angry, he wanted to express all of the rage his very being possessed, but he couldn't bring himself to shout at his older brother's shell. He couldn't do that to him. No one showed up at his beach party, but he could never blame Wilbur for that. Couldn't blame Wilbur for anything, really. As far as he was concerned, it was all Technoblade's fault and that was that (<em>it wasn't, but he would shovel the blame onto him until he couldn't anymore. No one said teenagers had healthy coping mechanisms</em>.)</p><p> </p><p>"No, I," Cold fingers came up to brush behind his ears and he nearly melted into the embrace. "Dream told me he would deliver the invitations to your party, Toms, and that I should go wander around in the woods and I said, well, you're the one in charge of our holiday so I'll do that and then it started raining and I got a little liquified-"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>"Liquified?!"</em>
</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah! Then I finally managed to find my way back. And now I'm here."</p><p> </p><p>Tommy shuddered out a deep breath and tried his best to relax. Okay, so he'll be joined by another person today. Dream would be able to find out that Wilbur came back soon (<em>he shoved the invitation part to the back of his mind to get angry about later</em>) but he would never expect them to leave in the morning. Forcing an easy smile onto his face, he pulled away from the hug with a bit of resistance from the taller hybrid who pouted a bit. </p><p> </p><p>"Hey Wil, what d'ya think about a road trip?" If he made this seem like just another holiday, his brother would be more likely to join him. Instead of the escape attempt it really was. </p><p> </p><p>Wilbur nodded enthusiastically, "Will Dream be joining us?" He froze.</p><p> </p><p>"Uh, no, sorry Wil. He was just bringing us here and checking in on us, but he's busy now so we can travel around a bit. Explore the SMP." It was bullshit, every single word out of his mouth was a lie. But he didn't get around in the Nether as a young child as a runt (<em>and oh how he hated that word. What used to be an affectionate nickname amongst his brothers was now an insult used against him) </em>without knowing how to get himself out of sticky situations in a non physical manner. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, okay!" <em>Thank fuck. </em></p><p> </p><p>"If you patch up my bag and pack things up, I'll prepare our ride." </p><p> </p><p>"Henry? I like that mooshroom," Again with the vacant smile.</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, Mushroom Henry's his name, mushroom stew is his game," Tommy tried to crack a smile at the poor joke, but his brother's laugh was the thing that brought it out.</p><p> </p><p>As he passed the abandoned bowl of stew, he took the opportunity to draw the word 'BITCH' in the leftover mush. Just as a nice surprise for whoever decided to drop by.</p><p> </p><p>____________________________</p><p> </p><p>A large figure, all muscle and regal outfit rode a diamond armoured horse into the desolate campsite. It was supposed to be a short visit, check on his brother (<em>maybe try and recruit him to the side of anarchy, who knows)</em> and mask his concern with jeers and jabs, but as the red eyes took in the noticeable lack of activity he began to look around. An emptied bunker, an abandoned blanket. He peered into a bowl.</p><p> </p><p>"What the <em>fuck-"</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. refuse to die or let them make you small, cause they love to see you convinced you're just a "brick in the wall."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>title once again from 'You're an Ace, Kid' by DEMONDICE. </p><p>Ghostbur has a destination in mind, Tommy gets an idea (oh gods) and Dream reports a missing child to L'manberg.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the comments on the last chapter fuelled me thank you guys so much for the positivity!! i am very much crying over todays streams. angsty reminder that phil will have to choose between his remaining son and (in canon) oldest friend. </p><p>also another bit of this au, techno didn't kill like every evoker so there are still evokers left. aka: more totems. this will become relevant later.</p><p>ADDITIONALLY, with each chapter, assume a day or two has passed. i'm not good at writing the passage of time.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As much as Tommy liked to convince himself and others otherwise, he was never the best at surviving the wilderness. Especially not on his own. The Nether, oh he could thrive in that boiling pit of lava, netherack, harsh fauna and sparse flora. The Overworld on the other hand? Way too complicated for him. Plains and forests of innumerable trees were not his strong suit. This was one of the many reasons he was beginning to regret leaving his designated exile area. Because at least Dream was there to provide food for him when he needed it, at least he was <em>there-</em></p><p> </p><p>But that was dangerous thinking. So Tommy didn't think about it. </p><p> </p><p>Turning to the floating spirit of his brother, hovering over the grass as Mushroom Henry trotted onward, he just stared. Questions on his lips, ready to burst forth but he struggled with them to silence himself. Whenever he asked questions, he often got answers he didn't want. Tommy didn't want to scare his brother away. </p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, Ghostbur (<em>he had to remember that name, Ghostbur, Ghostbur, Ghostbur-</em>) noticed his dull blue eyes on him and tilted his head, "Anything you want to ask, Toms?"</p><p> </p><p>Swallowing down his more insensitive conversation topics, he spoke, "Yeah, actually. Yeah. Do you remember how to hunt, by any chance?" Now this would be a stretch. Because Ghostbur only remembered happy memories and learning how to survive, and by extension hunt, in the Nether was a pain and would probably be one of the experiences filed under 'don't remember under pain of guilt'. </p><p> </p><p>"Tommy I-," he paused, swallowing thickly with a hand up as if to place it on his shoulder and comfort him before he aborted the gesture. "I'm sorry, I, I'm afraid I don't quite remember how... Maybe I can build a farm? I can remember how to do that." He would remember that, it was one of the first things Phil taught them under his care.</p><p> </p><p>"Its fine, Ghostbur." <em>Ghostbur, Ghostbur, your brother is dead he's fucking dead but he's still here so you can't mourn how fucked up is that? He should be there, Technoblade should be there, Philza should be there but they aren't and you can't fix it-</em></p><p> </p><p>But he can. Of course he can, what is he thinking? Tommy has built a nation next to his brother, he has pushed against gods to topple or at least budge them. Who's to say he can't bend death to his whims too? Who's to say he can't bring Wilbur back? A foolish train of thought, true, but there hasn't been a task that he couldn't yet overcome with enough sheer willpower and a loud enough voice. A grin worms its way onto his unusually dour face. But before he could explain the idea to his brother, he was interrupted.</p><p> </p><p>"Tommy, I don't mean to be a bother, but where exactly are we going?"</p><p> </p><p>His mind sputtered to a stop. Shit, holy fucking crap, he forgot to plan out where they were going. When he proposed the runaway scheme to Ghostbur as a road trip he hadn't planned out any 'scenic destinations' for the two of them to visit. He should really start using his head instead of running his mouth (one of the many things that got him in this position to start with). For the first time in a while, Tommy decided to be honest.</p><p> </p><p>"Honestly big man? Not a clue. You, you got any ideas?" He tried to keep his voice form wavering, and from how the ghost didn't seem to react he did a decent job of it.</p><p> </p><p>"In that case, we could go to Techno's place!"</p><p> </p><p>Ghostbur sure did have the ability to give him heart attacks any time he opened his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>"You know where that is, W- Ghostbur?" Even Tommy was impressed at how eerily calm his voice was.</p><p> </p><p>"I sure do! You see the snow over there?" He pointed to beyond the treeline, where the grass turned to white under the frozen water. "It should be a straight line that way, its a nice little cottage near a village."</p><p> </p><p>"Well," Tommy admitted sourly. "I don't have any better plans.</p><p> </p><p>_________</p><p> </p><p>Elsewhere, a masked man dressed in green adventure gear was fuming as he sailed a little rowboat back to civilisation. The blond brat could never stay <em>still</em>, could he? Always ruining his plans. Well, a smirk pulled at his scarred lips underneath the blank oval, he could actually use this to his favour. Surely L'manberg's president would be simply devastated to learn of his best friend's disappearance. </p><p>_______</p><p> </p><p>Thanking his lucky stars that he had such good timing, Tommy entered the empty house. It was quaint, warm, and nothing remotely like he was expecting the infamous Blood God (<em>privately, he wondered when he had stopped referring to the man as his brother</em>) to live.  Sure, they had lived together in such a place back when they were kids, but that was years ago and Technoblade never seemed to hold value to things from his past. Certainly not when he told Tommy to die a hero's death, something that had such deeper meaning to piglins and their hybrids than to your average human. </p><p> </p><p>Dying like a hero meant hurting your family, your <em>pack.</em> Dying like a hero meant you held honour and glory higher than the wellbeing and livelihoods of your family, because piglins hunted and survived in families and one death meant an entire pack could be brought down to its knees. It meant selfishness. And despite what many believed, Tommy <em>was not selfish</em>. He never wanted to be a hero. But that never stopped people from pushing him into that role. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy shoved handfuls of jerky, dried fruits and other non-perishables into his pack while Ghostbur chatted nonsense to the enderman in the living room. Technoblade could afford to share his things, so he didn't feel too bad about it. He steadfastly ignored the small part of him, the small part of <em>Dream</em> telling him that he never deserved things he did not earn by his own merits. Survival shouldn't hinge on the thoughts of others. </p><p> </p><p>His eyes wandered to a map in the back of the chest he was rummaging through and nimble fingers picked it up carefully. That care turned into near reverence as he realised what the paper illustrated. A map to a woodland mansion. Woodland mansions held evokers. Evokers held totems. Totems of Undying. </p><p> </p><p>Grabbing a spare red cloak hanging from a coat hook, Tommy started climbing the ladder up to his brother. </p><p> </p><p>Maybe the foolish thought of bringing his brother back wasn't so foolish after all. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hope you enjoyed this chapter, the reason it took so long was stressing abt my gcses and i only just finished the outline. not much ghostbur of mushroom henry in this one, mainly setting up the main part of the plot. </p><p>please leave a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed, im surprisingly planned out for this fic.</p><p>-casper x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. blood was our inheritance, no, we did not ask for this</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy's disappearance causes some... issues to those he considers family. Here are those reactions. </p><p>Technically a filler chapter but i need to get back into the groove of things.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>me, watching all of the guns pointed at me for not updating: "Now fellas..."</p><p>for real though, i'm sorry about the super late update but i experience this fun thing called 'untreated mental illness' and also its the year before college and i needed to catch up on all my lost work so i can get into my desired courses. if i fail maths (which i still might) i will have to give up either politics or one of my history classes and as someone who wants to be a teacher, failing my maths gcse will just be depressing. </p><p>so yeah, really sorry but i have to mainly focus on school for the past two months. also i'm doing this during my study period on a laggy chromebook so any dumb mistakes are due to the computer and may be fixed later.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Technoblade was not worried. He <em>wasn't</em>. No matter what the crazed voices spitefully dubbed 'Chat' said, he was not worried for his little brother. No matter if the runt was gone, nowhere to be found. Even if his twin brother's ghost was also missing and had apparently been absent for longer than Tommy was. Meaning the extroverted brat was completely alone and not just exiled. </p><p>Well, he mused internally, only heard by the choir of assholes that had taken up residence in his brain as a young piglin hybrid, not completely alone. He had spied a fence post and some rope fibre near the entrance of the encampment. No dubt his pack animal of a brother had found another bovine to bond with. Tommy had started the War of the Burning Eiffel Tower over a cow before, it wasn't unusual for him to have such pets. Still.</p><p>He couldn't help but- not<em> worry</em>. Be concerned, maybe. Perhaps slightly nervous, though that would be a stretch. Phil would kill him if the kid wound up dead.</p><p>Wincing, Techno realised that he shouldn't of brought up his adoptive (though not through legal means) father. It always set Chat off when he did.</p><p>
  <em>DADZA DADZA DADZA DADZA</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>guys, chill he needs to find the rnut.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">rnut</span>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">rnut</span>
</p><p>
  <s>rnut</s>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>fuck yu all</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>FUCK ME YURSELF, COWARD</em>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <s>This is awful and I hate it here.</s>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <strong>BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>shut the fuck up man</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">yeah this isnt the time</span>
</p><p>
  <s>the vessel needs to fccus on his pack!</s>
</p><p>Techno shook his head, huffing, "Not pack, Chat."</p><p>A chorus of disappointed voices violated his eardrums, making him clench his fist, nails drawing blood. He couldn't afford to lose control now. Not where evidence might be found. Once he found his brother he would shake some sense into him, interrogate him a bit on why he got himself exiled (and <em>how</em>, he thought him and the president were best friends. It certainly seemed like it when Tommy <em>renounced</em> his vows of brotherhood when Techno had taken his second life) and then take him back home. Whether the runt wanted it or not, he was still Phil's adopted son. <s>He was still his brother.</s></p><p>Chat thrummed up in annoyance and hatred, depending on the voice, at the mention of the seventeen year old. Being nearly executed by someone doesn't make for a good impression.</p><p>After a quick glance around the perimeter of the abandoned shelter, Techno spotted a set of hoofprints riding off towards the snow biome.</p><p>
  <em>Perfect.</em>
</p><p>_____</p><p>L'manberg was silent, in the weeks-long aftermath of the botched execution. If Tommy had been there, he would have rallied up the citizens into going after Technoblade again, to strike him while he was weak and without armour, to never give up. Or would he? It didn't seem like Tubbo knew his best friend at all. Maybe ex-best friend. He was still figuring that part out. </p><p>Tubbo thought he knew Tommy. Thought the younger boy kept his heart on his sleeve and would tell him if he was struggling. Thought he would be able to keep himself together and out of trouble for more than a few weeks so that the country could be stabalised and Tubbo could take a step back and spend some more time with him. Thought Tommy knew him well enough to know that was his plan.</p><p>In the moments where he found himself alone, usually walking along the wooden paths at night, he would remenisce. And hope. Hope for a time when Tommy could be back home and safe and not so Nether-damned traumatised that he had to resort to violence to feel normal. He didn't like to think about those things. It just made him feel worse about his choices.</p><p>Luckily since Quackity wouldn't leave him alone about planning another execution, a 'festival' for Dream, those quiet moments were few and far between. </p><p>When the current target of Quackity's furiosity announced Tommy's disappearance, L'manberg was loud for the first time in weeks. </p><p>Tommy always had a way of shaking up a crowd.</p><p>____</p><p>When the lifted, lumber streets of L'manberg errupted into chaos for the first time since Phil was placed under house arrest, it was safe to say the avian hybrid noticed. Looking up from his ankle monitor and where he had been trying to pry it off with his pickaxe (he was getting desperate, okay?) he darted to the window, eyes darting frantically about the plaza. He didn't know what to do if it was Techno down there, or End forbid his youngest after sneaking into L'manberg. It was something the kid might do. Maybe. His tired demeanour the one time he'd seen him was concerning. </p><p>After breaking out, Phil resolved to visit Tommy some more. </p><p>Cracking a side window open by a sliver, he let his flock of crows in, along with the small amount of valuables they had collected on his behalf. This had the added benefit of allowing him to hear what was going on outside, because seeing the masked figure shouting down at the amassing crowd and the quickly paling president beside him was quite concerning. </p><p>"-OMMY INNIT MINECRAFT HAS GONE MISSING FROM HIS EXILED LOCATION. IF ANYONE HAD INFORMATION ON HIS WHEREABOUTS, PLEASE CONTACT THEIR ROYAL HIGHNESS ERET OF THE DREAM SMP OR PRESIDENT UNDERSCORE!"</p><p>Oh <em>fuck. </em>Mentioning Eret before Tubbo was a power play if Phil had ever seen one. Lips pulling into a grimace, he pulled out his com (hidden in his enderchest at all times) and started typing. Techno, as the only member of his family free and relatively sane, needed to know this. Fundy had hooked up a redstone mechanism around his house to stop incoming messages, but not outgoing ones. Things were about to get messy in L'manberg and he didn't want to be there when it all went down.</p><p>____</p><p>A brown horse trots up towards a cabin in the snow, a light snowstorn dusting his armour and passenger in flurries of white flakes. Elsewhere, a mooshroom and his two companions stop by a river to rest for a while.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i'm literally writing chapter 4 as i post this (hopefully will be about 2k words), will likely be out this week. </p><p>please leave kudos and comments, we're so close to 1k kudos and i might actually cry.</p><p>- casper xxx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. but the water's rising (quicker than light and sound)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Technoblade finds out he has been burgled and realises his brothers are even more stupid than he thought. Tommy takes an impromptu dip in a river and Henry makes another appearance (gods bless).</p><p>CONTENT WARNING(S): undescriptive slight drowning (he trips and falls into a river) and character feeling sick but ignoring it.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>What is that? A hint of plot I smell?</p><p>Anyway yeah I'm trying to keep a decent update schedule now, hoping to get an update out every Wednesday or at least writing one on Wednesday that'll be out on Thursday. Thats like the only free time I have to do shit so I may as well attempt.</p><p>Also I suppose you didn't expect an update so soon? What can I say, I'm popping off.</p><p>Also also its like 11pm in my timezone so don't expect my structure to be okay i did half of this in school and the other half after spending every braincell on my online geography test (only to get 82% my grade 7 self is sobbing).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Techno's cabin was a quaint thing that hadn't taken all that long to build. Despite the little effort he put into making it, he didn't appreciate it being trashed. </p><p> </p><p>Whoever had broken into his house (he had his suspicions) had left the front door open, fresh snow falling onto his welcome mat and soaking it through completely. Yes, he had a welcome mat. Yes, he thought the slogan 'please leave' was funny and also fitting after the so-called Butcher's Army dragged him out of his house. Clearly this intruder did not get the memo. Or, he shifted, noting the blue tinged splatters across his kitchen wall, <em>intruders</em>. </p><p> </p><p>So his ghostly twin had made his way to the cabin. Judging by the location of the blue ink, Techno could determine which rooms he had been in and hopefully figure out his motivations. Maybe it was slightly amoral to profile his brother in such a way, but hey, no one could claim him to be a paragon of virtue. The anarchist had relocated Carl back into his shelter after spotting evidence of Wil- Ghostbur's existence, so was free to investigate without much worry. </p><p> </p><p>While he may insist that he keeps the horse safe to appease one of his loudest voices into silence, he was genuinely fond of the stallion. Nodding to Edward, who gave him a small, undecipherable warble in reply, he got to snooping around his own house.</p><p> </p><p>Ghostbur had evidently stolen some of his food, as denoted by the fingerprints littering his cupboards and the missing loaves of bread, bowls, jam and assortment of random non-perishables. Usually this would be confusing, as the spectre had no need to eat, but it was further proof of his other unannounced house guest. Then he made his way down the ladder, as seen by the cobalt pooling at the bottom of his storage room's opening. </p><p> </p><p>Techno jumped down the hole, you know, because he was just <em>that</em> cool.</p><p> </p><p>Chat disagreed, but no one could hear them except him so their opinions didn't matter. Even and especially if they insisted otherwise. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>You are the worst vessel and I hate you.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>I HAVE NEVER HATED ANYONE MORE THAN YOU RN :D</em>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">get his ass, chat</span>
</p><p>
  <strong>LOSERBLADE</strong>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>you couldn't cool urself out of a paper bag</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <s>
    <span class="u">That literally means nothing.</span>
  </s>
</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes Chat was too good at this 'humbling' business. </p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Get humbled.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Shaking his head, he continued looking around. He couldn't afford distractions, especially when it came to finding his foolish brothers. </p><p> </p><p>He was down quite a few blankets and some pillows. That wasn't a bother, he could make some more and it was a small price to pay for his littlest brother's warmth in the tundra. In addition to that, he was also down a stack of gapples and a spare cloak. Humming, Techno scoured a few other chests for missing items, knowing that when he put his mind to it, Tommy was good at not leaving a trace when stealing. Usually he left it obvious for his victims to find out it was him, but the kid wouldn't be so braggadocios.</p><p> </p><p>In one chest that would usually house his spare books, papers and maps, Techno noticed one <em>extremely</em> important map missing. Surely Tommy wouldn't-</p><p> </p><p>Oh, who was he kidding.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Of course he would.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>________</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Meanwhile elsewhere...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>_______</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tommy could quite literally feel how filthy he was. And it wasn't just the sticks and leaves in his hair used for 'camouflage'. Back in Logstedshire, he could just throw himself into the sea with his clothes on and most of the muck would wash off. Saved the time of painstakingly trying to wash his torn rags so they didn't tear any further. But now, with a new cloak and his spirit 'guide's' hovering presence, he couldn't just do that. </p><p> </p><p>He also wasn't just going to strip down in the wilderness, because <em>ew</em> he is a <em>minor</em> and he didn't want Mushroom Henry to catch a case. Who knew what they did to cows, much less <em>mooshrooms</em> in prison? Scary stuff. </p><p> </p><p>So, he was stuck. There was no way he was going to let his bovine pal get convicted for looking at kids and he really, really, didn't want to go through the forest feeling like he plastered moss onto his body with animal shit as glue. </p><p> </p><p>Eyeing an already slightly blue stained cloth in one of the cow's bags and the river to the right of him with nervous eyes, Tommy came up with an idea</p><p> </p><p>"Oi, 'bur?" He had begun calling his brother the nickname in an effort to call the man something both of them liked. So far it was working out alright. "Can I borrow that towel? I smell like I rolled in 'Shroom Henry's shit, man."</p><p> </p><p>Last he saw of him, the ghost had been darting through the spruce trees with a laugh, picking flowers and petting animals. Always keeping within earshot (a skeleton shot at him and Tommy could've sworn he saw Alivebur in the way the man wrenched the bow away and shot the shambling combination of bones and magic with it's own weapon).</p><p> </p><p>A bell-like laughter rung out, somewhere to his left, "Sure, make sure to put your cape on after though." It was a little far off, so he felt safe making a face at the statement. He had been under the impression he was only wearing it in the tundra, but his brother had been insistent on him being bundled up in the red wool at night. Or when he got wet. Or at any moment when Tommy could be convinced to let Ghostbur coo at him. Honestly it was just too often for the boy's liking.</p><p> </p><p>Slipping off from his cow-friend's back, he was acknowledged with a confused moo at the jostling. Giving the red and white animal a distracted pat on the neck as he unfastened the towel pack, he turned to face the slow moving river. Henry wouldn't just wander away, they trusted each other too much for that. Swiping the fabric out of the bag, he cautiously stumbled over the rocks to get a decent position by the river, perching himself on a long rock. </p><p> </p><p>Carefully, Tommy unfastened his remaining raggedy shoe and nearly tore his socks off in a bid to get his calves in the river as soon as possible. His feet ached something awful and his legs felt bruised despite how little he had actually walked. Maybe getting into riding steeds made your legs hurt or something. </p><p> </p><p>Wetting the fabric for a few seconds, he got to scrubbing dirt from first his face, and then moved onto his neck and arms, wincing slightly as the cloth turned dark. Purple, yellow, green bruises decorated his arms like a sick sort of tapestry. There was a proper metaphor in there somewhere, nothing Tommy could think of but Tehcnoblade would probably appreciate the poetry of it. </p><p> </p><p>Dragging his feet up and under him, he dunked his head underwater, trying to untangle the debris from the curls. Dull blonde instead of bright sunshine, but the boy couldn't bring himself to care too much. Unfortunately, using such force to scrub at oneself while hanging sort of upside down is never a good idea. His golden nugget necklace slipped off from around his neck, slipping into the slow moving (yet still definitely <em>moving</em>) river with a sickening 'plop'. </p><p> </p><p>A second passed. Then another. After a third, Tommy realised what happened and scrambled into the water after it. Easy to spot, less easier to grab; the river bed was rocky after all, and his feet still burned with overuse. Bony fingers grabbed ahold of the woven thread, yet he realised a moment too late that he had lunged too far and tipped over into the water, ingesting quite a bit on his way down.</p><p> </p><p>Spluttering, coughing and with watery eyes, Tommy managed to right himself and sat up in the river, one arm grasped tightly around a spire-like stone formation. Brushing his sopping wet hair from his eyes, he spared a moment to wave at his spectral brother, gaping incredulously from the safety of the shore. </p><p> </p><p>"... Ayup?" </p><p> </p><p>After filling some bottles full of water for the only alive, humanoid member of their party, they were on their way once more. </p><p> </p><p>Tommy tried to keep his eyes and mind on the map dictating the road ahead, but his stomach churned and he felt queasy whenever Mushroom Henry lurched a little too much. Often they would end up going in the wrong direction, a few times Ghostbur being the one to direct their course.</p><p> </p><p>It was nothing. Tommy was fine. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>blease..... kudos and comments i beg on my hands and knees i am but a humble writer..... i promise i won't leave you guys for like another 2 1/2 months (maybe)......</p><p>- casper x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. neither plague or famine tempered my courage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The piglin hybrid child is sick, his piglin hybrid brother worries and thinks about his own existence. Hugs.</p><p>( username previously caspercadaver, has been changed to fit my twitter which is _1ND1G0, send any questions you have or even drop a follow )</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>eyyy *bites lip* i know this chapter is a bit late but i had so much homework over the holidays and i was dogsitting the entire time. i've only had any free time today so this is what it is.</p><p>i'm also sick at the moment so this may be a bit incoherent but i just want to get a chapter out bc y'all have been waiting for like two weeks.</p><p>ramadan mubarak for any of my muslim readers out there, there won't be any swears in this chapter so don't worry &lt;3 sending love to you all, i know this world can be a harsh place (especially for you guys) so i've made this predominantly a fluffy chapter.</p><p>TWs: non graphic vomiting, non graphic descriptions of pain, very mild references to suicide (just the feeling tired about living part)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy woke up with a churning in his stomach and a painful headache. Letting out a pained groan, he grasped around in the pile of blankets and pillows for his brother's chilled limbs. Despite nearly every part of himself screaming that he was safe here, in the nest that Ghostbur had made for him, he needed to get out. A bitter, sour, acidic liquid was forcing it's way into his mouth and it was only a matter of time until he threw up. </p><p> </p><p>Whimpering, he tried to pull himself out, knowing that the moment he opened his eyes it was going to be too much and he would ruin his brother's hard work. A shushing noise echoed behind him, a cool hand brushed against his back and he moved into it, faintly registering a bowl in front of his face, ready to catch anything that might come out.</p><p> </p><p>"Come on Toms, it'll be alright," Ghostbur cooed, his cold palm rubbing circles into his back in a grounding rhythm. Tommy began to feel a little more like a person again. "You can throw up if you need to."</p><p> </p><p>Another tremor shook his body and his stomach flipped, "N-no, no I'm okay," he twisted his fingers in what he hoped was a thumbs up in the older piglin hybrid's general direction. "I'm doing pog we can keep moving." He wouldn't dare shake his head when the movement alone would surely make him chunder.</p><p> </p><p>A sigh, then three icy digits were pressed against his forehead like an icepack, a concerned hum echoed around the cave. That's right, cave. Ghostbur had insisted they hunker down in a small cave for the night instead of camping out in the open. Mushroom Henry was still tied up outside, he presumed, judging by the curious moo coming from the mouth of the cave. </p><p> </p><p>"You're not."</p><p> </p><p>Tommy's stomach lurched once more and this time he couldn't keep it down. A beat and the once empty bowl was now filled. There was a light thud as it was set down and a cloth was wiped across his mouth, a pair of ice-cold arms circling his waist and lowering them both into the mound of fabric.</p><p> </p><p>"You're not okay, bubba," Ghostbur's voice sounded sad, less echoey than before, more present. "You're not okay and that's alright. Just," fingers traced mindless patterns in his hair, Tommy's face pressed into the ghost(?)'s pleasently chilled chest. "Let me look after you, yeah? One last time?"</p><p> </p><p>If he had been more awake, more present, his brain would've comprehended the finality in those words, the humanness to them. But in his fever-addled state all he could hear was the encompassing love, the adoration and the care. Tommy sunk into his brother's arms, falling into a blissfull slumber.</p><p> </p><p>______</p><p> </p><p>Ghostbur- no, Wilbur, was tired. Ever since he had finally let go, dying in his adopted father's arms and then waking up in a semi-tangible greyscale form of his former self, he was tired.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe tired wasn't quite the word. Exhausted fit, but it was too simple a word. It was a bone deep fatigue, despite leaving his bones behind, that pulled at his sunken eyelids and manifested in navy rivulets that poured from his mouth and sword shredded stomach. Oftentimes it was easier just to forget. To let go. To pour his worst experiences into solid clumps of blue and pass them around to others so they too may let their memories go. </p><p> </p><p>After finding his brother about to run away from their 'holiday home' with such a blatant lie, his sadness began to slip in again. When Tommy insited he join him on his alleged road trip, he agreed. Of course he agreed.</p><p> </p><p>Wilbur had swore long ago to stick by him, especially in their eldest brother's absence, so he would. There was no doubt in his mind that he would stay with his baby brother until he didn't need him anymore. </p><p> </p><p>While L'manberg had been his unfinished symphony (and oh did his blood boil like the Nether's damnable lava lakes when he saw it being rebuilt), it was a commonly known fact that Tommy and the country were linked. Intwined. The boy had placed all his eggs in one basket, if you would, funneling everything he was into both revolutions. In many ways, his brother was his unfinished symphony too. </p><p> </p><p>And Wilbur would stay connected to the mortal realm until it was finished. Either with Tommy's death, and blazes did that thought cause his nonexisted stomach to churn, or with him healing. Finally moving on from the cycle of death Wilbur had inadvertedly started with their drug van.</p><p> </p><p>After that, he could move on. Rest, at long last. Maybe he would go onto become one of his father's crows, the sould of those he had killed should they chose to stay. Perhaps he could become one of the voices haunting his brother's head, the souls of piglin and piglin hybrids killed in battle. </p><p> </p><p>Pulling his little brother closer into his arms, he nuzzled his nose into the slightly damp curls and sighed. Or maybe he would end up wherever Schlatt had fallen to, with the rest of the villains in the server's history. It would be what he deserved.</p><p> </p><p>In the meantime, he had Tommy. And he had Mushroom Henry. For now, that would be alright.</p><p> </p><p>________</p><p> </p><p>Tommy opened his eyes with great reluctance, blinking rawly at the moonlight flitering in through the cave enterance. Groggily, he realised a cold presence underneath him, the chill being dampened by several blankets. He was sleeping on Ghostbur. And Ghostbur was sleeping? Looking closer upon the realisation that the spirit's eyes were closed, he saw slight puffs of visible air being exhaled from his nose. That was odd, did ghost's have lungs to breathe with? Or was it just an illusion to make people more comfortable around him?</p><p> </p><p>Peculiar. Not knowing things wasn't very poggers, and as everyone knew, Tommy was a very poggers person.</p><p> </p><p>He poked his brother's nose. Nothing.</p><p> </p><p>He poked his brother's nose again. Once more, nothing.</p><p> </p><p>He poked his brother's nose for the last time. Everyone knows that an experiment needs to be repeated for accurate results. Again, nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Fine. Tommy would have to resort to extreme measures. </p><p> </p><p>Digging his fingers into his brother's nostrils, he barked a loud laugh when the ghost shot up and yelped. Noticing the mischeivous look being shot at him, Tommy clamped his mouth shut. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh Toms," Ghostbur started, raising his icicle fingers, ready to strike. "Do you really want to mess with me?"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ghostbur/wilbur is abouta tickle tf out of a child</p><p>eyooo if you enjoyed this please follow me on twitter its fun sometimes i'm _1ND1G0 (thats a zero at the end) on there, we can talk about found family and stuff. i need more moots.</p><p>also drop a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed, i know i did some heavy foreshadowing in the last chapter for this and we're finally at the therapy section of this fic. wooo. hope i delivered alright.</p><p>-indigo/loki, formerly casper. look i'm trans i change my name quite frequently.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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